


Going Downhill

by Eirrir



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Based on a Vocaloid Song, Bullying, Depression, F/M, Fanfiction, High School, Psychological Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eirrir/pseuds/Eirrir
Summary: A life going downhill. A girl who is losing hope. A boy who is despised. Can hope be found once again?This is a profound story, based on Miku Hatsune's "Rolling Girl," about bullying and depression.





	1. Prologue

***A/N: Hello everyone. This is my first story, greatly inspired by Miku Hatsune’s “Rolling Girl.” I decided to write this fanfic because I really wanted to breathe life into one of my favorite songs ever. I hope I do it justice! You need not to have heard the song or know anything about Vocaloid to enjoy the story.**

**Also, just for information’s sake, I do not own any of the pictures. This story will contain themes of depression, bullying, and self-harm  
  
Here comes the emotional roller coaster you've been waiting for. Welcome aboard!**  
**_______________________________________________**             
         When did it start going downhill? Where did I go wrong? How did I became a mere shadow of what I once was? Questions upon questions noisily churn inside my head, and I hadn't noticed myself scratching the sides of my head so hard they're nearly raw.                    
        Unsurprisingly, the many unanswered inquiries that I've unintentionally created for myself overwhelm my brain that tries meticulous and analytical. _T_ _ries,_ because my mother has raised me to be this way, but it struggles nonetheless. I've come to realize that I have immense difficulty in detaching my emotions from my observations. Everything I take in seems to splatter onto the emotional canvas of my mind, leaving a tumultuous mishmash of feeling and reasoning. And then  _they_ come in and stain the canvas pitch black for their own amusement. They don't end there. No, they continue with cornering me like I'm a skittish prey and nudge me toward the the edge of my sanity.  
        "Ha...ha..."  
        Well, I’m at the edge now. And, seeing that they haven't stopped creeping toward me, I suppose there's only one option for me to take.  
  
        Inhaling in a deep breath, I take a quick moment to appreciate the boundless expanse of the sky stretching all around me before preparing myself for what's ahead. My arms rise from my sides, spread horizontally like the wings of a bird that is about to take flight. I then leap off the edge and into the air. The updraft brushes against my hair and my skin. In that moment, the unbearable weight of what I had done, of its impending consequences, and of all the expectations that were thrust onto me is lifted off my shoulders and gone with the wind. I feel so alive and free. Only for a few seconds, of course. Everything comes rushing back. And, I come crashing down. At full speed.  
            …  
        It hurts. All of it hurts. More than before. It's funny how, to me, a fleeting moment of happiness is always followed by a setback multitudes more harrowing. It's funnier how I am still willing to give up anything for those little moments while holding my breath and desperately hoping that happiness will last. What breaks my heart the most is not the grand misfortunes that happen after, but the split second those blissful moments end. Haha, that's right. It's the smallest things that are killing me.  
        In my perseveration, this ruthless cycle continues over and over, each time tearing my heart anew. I think, by now, my heart has given up trying to mend itself back together. ... What's left is just a mess.  
        “Hck… hck…” I notice the sound of shallow gasps.  
        Lying on the ground, I had not realized I’ve been sobbing until I see my chest convulsing and feel my tears trickling down the sides on my face onto the edges of my ears. As I wipe away the wetness with the sleeves of my shirt, I notice out of the corner of my eye someone standing beside me. It’s a boy I've met only twice before, yet part of me already despises him to the very core. He's watching me with eyes quivering with sorrow and pity.  
        I don’t want to talk to him right now. I cover my face with my arms and let myself continue to cry for an unknown length of time until eventually I feel like I’m running out of tears. All the while, the boy observes me in silence.  
        “Have you done yet?” I hear him finally ask in a soothing, compassionate voice when my breathing has finally gotten steady.  
        “Haha.” An airy laugh escapes my lips. I don’t know why that question sounds funny to me, but it does. I slowly bring my body up into sitting position. “… Almost. Hey, do you think if I stop breathing right now, I might be able to see the end very soon?”  
        Without waiting for an answer, I wrap my hands around my neck. And, squeeze. As hard as I can.  
**___________________________________________**  
***A/N: I purposefully presented this particular snippet of what's to come because I thought it would be best to show you at the very beginning a good representation of th e _worst_** **of the depression-related events that will happen in this story.**

**  
If this was not too much for you, then you can basically handle anything this ride throws at you. In this case, I encourage you to keep on reading. The following chapters will definitely be much longer. If this was too much for you to handle or not to your liking, then feel free to leave a comment or move onto a different ride, I mean, story. Until next time, readers!**


	2. Apology

*An unknown number of days ago*

  
        I can’t breathe. My lungs scream for oxygen, but unfortunately, I’m helpless to do anything about it. My face is held submerged underwater, and I’m afraid to open my mouth. Just when I feel like I'm on the verge of losing consciousness, a force finally tugs at the strands of my hair and brings my head upward, above the water. I am then face to face with a schoolgirl wearing a malicious smile. In fact, I am surrounded by two other schoolgirls, both smiling in a similar fashion. Familiar faces in a familiar situation.  
        I take a big breath of air.  
        “That should teach you a lesson about bumping into me without apologizing, you rude bitch,” the girl stooping beside me sneers, still holding my hair in her clutches.  
        What’s infuriating is that I did apologize. However, given my timid voice, I guess she didn’t hear me. Even if I were to point it out, I’m sure she wouldn’t believe me.  
        I am currently crouching before a toilet in the girl’s restroom. Ragged gasps for air escape my mouth, while drops of water slide down my wet face.  
  
            “You know what you should be saying now, right? Don’t think you’re getting away without saying it, you smelly piece of crap” the girl says to me contemptuously.  
            When I bite my lip, unwilling to say again what she failed to hear the first time, she grips the mass of my hair tighter and brings my face closer to hers.  
            “Unless you want another helping of toilet water,” she threatens, with a huge smirk on her face. I see the twisted amusement in her eyes that says that she would not mind seeing me nearly drown in toilet water again.  
            “I-I’m…s-sorry,” I mutter between my ragged breaths. I see her smirk grow even wider before she pushes my head away and stands up straight. She then lets out a sigh and stretches her back as if she has just finished her job.  
            One of the other girls comes up to her and states, “Gumi, we got her lunch money~. Let’s ditch this bitch, and get back to class before lunch ends.” Of course, she probably took my money out of my skirt pocket while my head was in the toilet. The three of girls walk out of the restroom giggling about whether they spend my money on a karaoke parlor or save it to buy accessories. I am now left alone, sitting on the floor.  
            With a tired sigh, I slowly stand up and walk toward the sink to give my face a thorough wash. I notice that the front part of my hair had also been soaked in toilet water. I look like a mess, but I try to tidy myself as best as I can so as to not rouse unnecessary concern from other people. Unsurprisingly, none of my classmates had paid attention to me throughout the rest of the school day.  
            Once I got home, my mother comes up to me. “Are you okay?” she asks upon looking at me.  
            “There's no problem,” I reply automatically. Telling her the truth would just cause needless fuss. My parents have been separated ever since I was young, so I essentially have only one parent raising me. As I have grown up, she has pinned all of her ambitions and aspirations on me in expectation of me becoming the happy, successful lady she herself could not be. Sometimes, I feel that they're too heavy for me to handle on my own.  
        After inspecting me for another moment, she puts her hands on her hips. “If there’s no problem, then why is your hair so messy? And, what's with the bags under your eyes? They’re obviously not from you studying too much because your grades are nowhere near good enough. What have you been wasting your time on that you're neglecting basic tidiness?” my mother chides with irritation, not knowing how what I'm actually struggling with at school.  
         At times like these, I just stay silent. I don't try to make a stand for myself or explain to her my troubles because, in this case, I want to spare her the heartache. She has enough on her plate as it is. That, and also, I've learned from my past mistakes that taking back will just fire her up more. Yeah, I'm pretty much between a rock and a hard place. I find myself here quite often, it seems.  
         I simply let out a sigh as I make my way up the room, though not without hearing my mother continue her verbal onslaught about my needing to “grow up and pay attention to how I present myself to other people.”  
            “Try to act perkier. Maybe that way, you’ll be able to make more friends,” she adds with a hint of skepticism in her voice. That struck a nerve in me. I can tell she has practically lost all hope in me.  
            “You don’t understand!! It’s not that easy!! Some people can wear a fake smile no matter the situation, but I can’t. It’s too tiring, and I’m already so worn out!” I wanted to scream these thoughts at her but I can neither find the energy nor the courage to. I'm too exhausted as it is.  
        After retrieving a new set of pajamas from my closet, I slowly slip into the shower and let the warm water hit my face. Soon, tears from my eyes join in, streaming down my face and body. I scrub away at my face in an attempt to wipe away the humiliating sensation I felt this afternoon as the odor of the toilet bowl hit my nostrils and my head forcefully dunked into the water against my will. But, as expected, I can't wash away the feeling. It doesn't come off.  
        Can I really hope for a better day tomorrow? After having those hopes shot down so many times, I think it's about time I learn my lesson.


	3. How the World Works

        My cheek smarts where she slapped me. My arms and legs ache where they kicked me. Usually, those schoolgirls would rough me up just enough for me to cough up my lunch money, but unfortunately today, I happen to have forgotten to bring it. Not to mention, the girl named Gumi is in a foul mood.  
            “Think we would leave you alone if you brought no money, smart ass?” she laughs derisively, no humor in her voice at all, “Of course not, idiot. It doesn't work like that. Now you know what happens when you don’t give us what we want. Better bring the dough tomorrow unless you want another beating coming your way.”  
            “And don’t you dare snitch on us if you know what’s best for you~,” one of the girls adds. With that, she launches her final kick at my stomach, which I try to block with my arm. That'll be another big bruise, I bet.  
            The three of them then walk off, giggling at who-knows-what, probably from the satisfaction of what they have done. I’m left on the ground, bruised and bleeding. After examining myself, I conclude that my injuries are not terrible but definitely need treatment from the nurse’s office. Cursing quietly to myself, I expect that the nurse will question me about the scratches and bruises all over my body. Although I’m somewhat limping in pain, I manage to bring myself to office without attracting too much attention.  
            “What happened?” asks the young nurse, staring at my wounds with suspicion.  
            “I fell down the stairs rather ungracefully,” I lie.  
        Not the most convincing lie, I know, but it does the job, in my opinion. She casts me another dubious look, but eventually, she lets out a sigh and prepares the items necessary to disinfect my injuries.  
        After she tended to my wounds, I thank her and head toward the door to leave. Just then, the door opens and a female teacher whom I’ve seen around many times before steps in.  
        Her eyes widen when she notices me in front of her. In response, I simply give her a polite nod, walk past her, and close the door. I then do a cursory inspection of my cuts to make sure that all of them have been accounted for before I go to my classroom. To my surprise, I’m able to hear the conversation that has begun on the other side of the door.  
            “Just wanted to drop in during my break time to catch up with you. …Is that girl alright?” a voice asks with concern. I’m sure it belongs to the female teacher that just walked in.  
            “She says she fell down the stairs. Don’t worry, I patched her up,” answers the voice that supposedly belongs to the nurse.  
            “…Her name is Miku Hatsune, right? You think she was telling the truth?”  
            “Yeah, the lonely girl. The troubled kid. …I doubt she was telling the truth.”  
            “She’s always so gloomy and alone. Practically every student avoids her. …What do you think is going on with her?”  
            “We won’t know for sure what’s going on with her unless she tells the staff herself. I’d say she’s either getting bullied or hurting herself to get attention from other people. Either way, it’ll be tough to deal with.” I hear a sigh.  
            “Why does she make it complicated for herself? I easily made friends back in my school days just by smiling, giving people compliments when they wanted to hear it, and laughing when it’s right.”  
            “Some people just have trouble learning how the world works. Some a lot more than others.”  
            I hadn’t realize my hands were clenched so tightly until I felt pain from my nails digging deeply into my skin. Those two think they had life all figured out so easily and simply. Did they really believe I could wear a bright smile as my own peers ostracize me and as these three girls pick on me daily for reasons I’m unable to comprehend?? I would like to see all of them try to be bubbly and cheerful if they were in my position; even if they were to pull it off by some miracle, they would just be lying to themselves.  
             With my hands still balled up, I walk toward my classroom.  
            “Hatsune, you’re late—,“ my teacher, Mr. Kiyoteru, raises his eyebrows when he takes a look at me, “What happened? Are you okay?”  
            “There’s no problem,” I respond sharply and head straight for my desk in an attempt to cut off any follow-up questions he might have. I feel the gazes from my classmates that pierce through my confidence as I take my seat. My teacher lets out an audible sigh and continues with his lecture. As soon as he turns his back toward the students, they start whispering about me, some people more loudly than others.  
            “Yo, did you see her bandages?” I hear a stray voice ask.  
            “Like, yeaah obviously. They got her gooood this time,” a high-pitched voice answers, followed muffled snickers.  I’m afraid to raise my head to take notes from the blackboard, but when I do, I notice the multitude of unwelcome looks the people around me, ranging from disdain to pity. I then bury my face in my textbook for the rest of the lecture.        
            I can't wait for school to end.  
**________________________________________  
*A/N: Hi, readers! Thanks for reading thus far. I just want to point out that, if you haven't yet realized, I intend this story to be somewhat symbolic and open to interpretation. As you read through this fanfic, try to not take events that happen simply at face value, and I guarantee you a more enjoyable experience on this emotional roller coaster. Or your money back!**


	4. Down

        The school bell rings. I wince as I got up from my seat. I glance at my teacher, who’s being surrounded by other students, and take the opportunity to slip out of the classroom unnoticed.  
        “Ah shoot,” I think to myself as I slowly make my way through the hallways, a weak attempt to distract myself from the whispering I hear from the students around me, “I'll probably need to explain these injuries to my mother; I really, really don’t want to. Small chance I’ll be able to slip away unnoticed by her.” I haven’t yet told her anything about my bullies.  
        I’m now lingering in front of the school, feeling reluctant to go back home, but I can sense the intense staring from people who are passing by me. I should find a secluded area outside and possibly think up a plan to deflect my mother’s questions when I face her. I find a nice shade under a tree behind the school building and sit down. Before long, different thoughts invade my mind.  
        By nature, I’m an introverted person. I don’t mind being alone. Coming into high school, I had hoped for one or two good friends at best. But, I had not expected to be ostracized by everyone. Why was everyone avoiding me? Was it because I transferred into this high school from another school district? I worked hard to get into this school because it was a rather high-ranking yet small public school that was located on top of a hill. It seemed like a cozy, relatively inexpensive school, and judging from my research, it has a history of its student body being close-knit and optimistic. …Was it my personality that made it difficult for other people to get along with me? At the beginning of high school, I was not as dismal as I am now. Sure, I wasn’t all that cheerful to begin with, but I was definitely not as gloomy. I thought I would fit in.  
        However, being ostracized had not bothered me much; what bothers me is that I was not left completely alone, in peace. Why do those three girls attack me?! Was there any reasoning behind it? Or, were they in dire need of a victim to bully, and I just happened to be that unfortunate person they randomly picked?  
        Questions upon questions noisily churn inside my head, and I hadn't noticed myself scratching the sides of my head so hard they're nearly raw. I desperately need a break right now. My legs stand and begin walking around on their own. I feel a strong need to go away, to go somewhere else. I approach the fence at the edge farthest behind the school. It’s a relatively small, metal fence I can easily climb over. So, I do, ignoring the throbbing that came from my cuts and bruises. I then walk toward the point where the hill begins to quickly slope downward.  
        Hardly anyone frequented this area because the main entrance of the school is in the opposite direction, and all that there is in this back section of the school are just trees and grass. Not to mention, school's over, and most everyone already left. Meaning that there will be peace and quiet. But that's not what I'm looking for. What am I looking for is a certain view.  
        The first thing about this school that caught my attention as I was researching my potential high schools is that it was isolated on a hill. I had thought it quite romantic and quaint. When I first visited the school, I fell in love with the beautiful scenery of the sky and town surrounding it. At that time, the view made the world seem so expansive, limitless, and colorful. Ever since I’ve attended this school, however, I quickly forgot about the landscape. Standing before this sight once again, now in a perfect position to relish all I see before me, unimpeded by the fences surrounding the school, I feel, not awe and wonderment like the first time I laid my eyes upon it, but…emptiness.  
        I see colors draining away from the scenery before me, turning this once-glorious view of the world into black and white. Everything in front of me is gradually fading into dreary, colorless monochrome. Tears leak through my eyes, and I feel as if everything crashing down onto me; the lid that had been keeping my emotions bottled up seems to have been popped open. Before I know it, despite my wounds, I’m running down the hill as fast as I can and yelling at the top of my lungs like a madman.  
        "RAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"  
        I know in my heart that this is a worthless attempt to run away from all of my problems and to chase after the colors that are escaping my world. Of course, my legs give way, and as a result, my body rolls down. Down. Down. Down.  
        As I tumble down that steep hill, the pain of the ground scraping my body somehow dulls the hurt I feel the three girls had inflicted on me, the hurt I feel from what people say about me, the hurt I feel from the way my mother looks at me, the hurt I feel when I drown myself in my thoughts. In that moment, for the first time in a long time, I feel… free. Free as a bird. But, as I come to the bottom of the hill, my body loses momentum, and I am forced to come to a stop. When I reach the end, all of the pain, the reality of all that has happened, comes rushing back and drags the tears out of my eyes once again. The tears sting, the pale sunlight stings, all of it stings.  
        Looking toward the unreachable sky, I see that, even though my body is now motionless, the world continues to spin around and around without me. No, wait, maybe it's my head that continues to spin around. I can't tell. Still lying on the ground, I slowly raise my arm to shade my eyes from the sun while ignoring the extreme throbbing from my muscles that are screaming, begging me to stop moving. However, I notice from the corner of my eye an unfamiliar figure standing beside me. I squint due to the bright sunshine. Despite the blinding glare and the shadow over his features, I can make out that it’s a boy around my age and he’s directly facing me in silence and without any movement. I quickly wipe with my sleeve any tears left in my eyes.  
        “Who are you?” I ask, now trying to gather the energy to sit up. Since when has he been standing there? Had he been watching me the entire time as I ran, tripped, and pathetically rolled all the way downhill? That would be embarrassing, to say the least.  
        As if he had not heard me, he remains standing perfectly still, his eyes locked on me.  
        “Hey... do I know you or something?” I raise my voice a little louder. I finally manage to sit up but not without my bones creaking and my muscles aching. Now that the sunlight is not directly in my eyes, I take a better look at him. I'm sure I've never seen the boy before. He has dark brown hair, alluring amber eyes, and is probably around my age. On his face lies a faint smile. An ever-so-faint smile, but I can see it nonetheless, and it causes me to tense up despite my exhausted, unwilling muscles. That smile of his strikes a chord deep within me, and I begin to feel an intense repulsion for the boy.


	5. Zero

        His still eyes suddenly blink, as if snapping himself out of a trance, and he points to himself. “Who, me?” He asks in surprise. His voice is surprisingly low and smooth.  
        “Who else is there?” I reply in a snarkier tone than I intended. I turn my head from side to side to emphasize that there’s no one else around except for the two of us. Usually, I’m nowhere near as hostile as this with someone I just met, but something about him that I cannot describe sickens my very core.  
        He chuckles softly. I feel the hairs on my skin stand on end. “You can call me Zero,” he says.  
        I seriously doubt that Zero is his real name. Straight off the bat, this guy is a suspicious character. But, in my weary and helpless state, I can hardly walk, let alone run away, and he doesn’t appear to be leaving me anytime soon. So, I decide to somehow try to direct the conversation to a point where I can casually excuse myself and leave.  
        “...Okay, Zero. Do you need something from me or...?” I ask. Usually, by this point, a stranger would simply walk away unless they had some business with me.  
        “Hmm? No, I watched you roll down and was just wondering if you were okay, Miku," he answers.  
        I feel my eyes widen in shock. How did he know my name? Ah, but given that he’s around my age, he’s most likely a student in my high school, so it would be no surprise that he would know my name. After all, I’m somewhat infamous for being an outcast in my school. Then again, if they knew it was me rolling down from a hill, most students from my school would just deem the act as part of my idiocy and continue with their day like they didn't see it. I feel the need to make sure who this guy really is.  
        “Are you a student?”  
        “Uhh, no. Not a student. Hmm…it’s hard to say. I’m not really sure myself.” He scratches his cheek in a somewhat bashful manner. I tilt my head inquisitively, failing to understand what is so difficult for him to explain.  
            His hand moves along the bottom of his face until it reaches his chin, and he makes a gesture expressing that he is deep in thought. After a moment of silence, he finally says, “I guess you can think of me as a ghost.”  
            “What?! A ghost?! No way!” I inadvertently sputter. It's scientifically impossible. Can’t this guy make his lies believable at least?  
            Once again, he chuckles softly, amusement filling up his eyes. Repulsive. “So, you don’t believe me. Hmm, want to see whether or not I’m telling the truth?” With that said, he holds out his hand.  
            Considering that I’m still sitting on the ground, I assume that this was a gesture to help me get up, which was a normal thing to do given the situation. So, what is he playing at? I eye his hand suspiciously, while he calmly waits for me to take his hand. The inexplicable revulsion I have for the boy tempts me to just slap his hand away, but my rationality fails to detect any other reason for me to refuse his hand. I reach out to take it, only for my hand to pass through his. Literally pass through. As if his hand were air. My jaw drops in disbelief.  
            Upon seeing my dumbfounded expression, Zero wraps his arms around his stomach and bursts into laughter. Doubting my eyes, I crawl on my knees toward him and stretch out my hand to touch the hem of his pants, but my hand never reaches anything. All I see is my entire hand being swallowed by his leg, yet remaining intact when I retract it. Goose bumps rise on my skin.  
            “Haha, whoa there.” He takes a step back, and his laughter eventually dies down. “…Well? Do you believe me now?”  
            Still trying to fully grasp what just happened, I gulp, “L-let’s suppose for now that you are a ghost. What would a ghost like you be doing around here?”  
            Zero again makes a gesture of deep thought. "Hmm...," after a moment of pause, he simply shrugs and states, with a smile lingering on his lips, “I forgot. But I do feel a strong attraction to you for some reason.”  
            When I hear that, I reflexively grimace in disgust, although I quickly stop myself, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the expression I just made. His smile does not falter. I realize I should be getting back on track on my plan of excusing myself and leaving. I cannot have a ghost, _if_ he really is one, haunting me; I have enough problems already.  
         “A ghost who has forgotten what he was doing, huh?” Exerting great effort to get my body off the ground and standing up, I then proceed with the proper course of action, “Well, I guess you’ll be stuck wandering around for a while then. Good luck with that. A-anyway, I think it’s time for me to head home. Good-bye,” I try to casually say as I begin to walk fast him.  
        “Oh, already? Okay Miku, I’m sure we’ll meet again,” he says, still wearing an unnerving smile similar to the one I first saw him with. I quickly turn away from him. To anyone else, I’m sure that smile would seem gentle, but, to me, it hits a nerve in an unpleasant way that I can’t explain very well. After walking several meters away from him, I look over my shoulder behind me, relieved to see that he is still standing where I last left him. He waves at me a friendly farewell. Convinced that he wasn't going to following me, I return a quick wave at him and limp along the long, grueling tread around the bottom of hill and back home. **  
**


	6. Fault

        By the time I reach home, it was already evening. As soon as I close the door behind me, my legs collapse in utter exhaustion beneath me, and I lean my back against the door to rest my aching body. Both my mind and body are so worn out. Nothing new. After a few minutes of tired breathing, I painfully bring myself back up to standing position. To my surprise, my mother hasn’t come out to see me yet. Ah, that’s right. Today is one of her workdays, and she's been telling me that it's the busiest time of year for her right now. So, these days, she'll be home a lot later. That's good news to me.  
        On my long tread home, I had devised a plan to rush into my room and stay beneath my bed covers after I cook a pot of porridge. If my mother comes into my room, asking me to join her for dinner, I’ll just say that I’m ill and have already eaten porridge for dinner. That way, I can remain hidden under the covers, and she won’t need to see the bandages I’m wearing or notice the limp I have due to the cuts and bruises on my legs. There’s probably a fifty percent chance that she’ll leave me alone for the rest of the night; if the other fifty percent happens… I’ll just have to deal with it then.  
        In the kitchen, I hum the tune of a sad song that just happens to come to mind while I cut some stalks of leek and toss the slices into my porridge. As I eat the meal I had cooked at the dining room table alone, I recollect the strange interaction I had with the mysterious boy named Zero today. It was the first real conversation I had with another person around my age in a long time. Seriously, how long has it been since my last chat with a student? I can’t remember, no matter how hard I try. Part of me wants to believe that I didn't actually have that crazy chat and that my head hit the ground too hard as I was rolling so, in its disorientation, it conjured up an illusion by mistake. Oh boy, I must admit though; that's a far-fetched theory if I ever heard one.  
        After I finish eating, I wash and put away my dishes, but leave the rest of the porridge I cooked in the pot on the stove in order to make the fabrication I plan to tell my mother more convincing.  
        Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I am face-to-face with the huge mess that is me. I have countless pieces of grass and dirt all over my aquamarine hair and school uniform, as well as a few new smaller cuts and bruises littered throughout my skin from my latest adventure of rolling downhill. It’ll take quite a while to get myself cleaned up, especially getting all of the debris out of my hair. A weary sigh escapes my lips. However, I don’t regret going on that “adventure.” Oh, what I would give for those wonderful moments of freedom.  
        That night, my plan had been successful. My mother left me alone when I told her I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to rest. When I’ve made sure she had retired to her room after eating her dinner, I get out of my bed and begin to do some homework. Once I’m stuck on a math problem, however, my mind wanders, and I find myself working on some lyrics to a song I made up while I was in the shower. To test out how the words sound, I quietly sing pieces of the song here and there, hoping that my mother would not hear me from her room. I continue to work on the lyrics until I notice that it’s past my bedtime. Upon reaching a good stopping point and feeling satisfied with the progress I’ve made, I then put my pencil down, turn off the lights, and crawl into my bed. Before long, darkness begins to soothe my senses and overcome my consciousness.  
        I flinch as the girl snatches the money out of my hands. It's the usual holdup I encounter during lunch break. Still pinning me against the wall, Gumi glares at my face. Her two lackeys stand a short distance behind her with their arms crossed.  
        “Good. You manage to bring us the money like the obedient little bitch that you are. I was beginning to doubt you have enough brains to do that one measly job,” Gumi says to my face in a frighteningly low, catty tone, “But, ah-ah. My sources tell me that, this morning, the school nurse has been asking several students about whether or not you are being bullied. According to another one of my birdies, you went straight to the nurse after we left you yesterday, and rat us out, so now the nurse is trying to gather evidence to confirm it.”  
        My eyes widen in surprise at the false accusation. I don’t like where this is going. Sweat forms in my palms. Panic creeps into my mind.  
        “What, cat got your tongue? Or, did you just now realize that you were caught red-handed?” Gumi growls, scorn laced in every one of her words.  
        “N-no—“ I stutter. Various thoughts about the best course of action in this situation frantically run through my head.  
        “We warned you against ratting us out, you dumb bitch~. Gumi, we should teach her what we do to people who tattle on—,“ the girl standing behind Gumi on the left cuts in.  
        “NO, I DIDN’T DO IT! I DIDN'T RAT YOU OUT!” I shout defiantly. The fear toward what the girls might have in store for me takes reign over my distraught mind. “IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR MAKING IT SO OBVIOUS. ANYONE WITH COMMON SENSE WOULD BE SUSPICIOUS!”  
        The girls freeze up, looking stupefied.  
        “What…did you say?” says Gumi, after a moment of silence, doubting what she just heard. Unfortunately for me, her doubt quickly turns into rage. “You clearly haven’t learned your place, you dimwitted twit. I thought we made it clear enough that you are our little bitch. How dare you blame us for your pathetic appearance that basically screams for adults to help you?”  
        “Do you even hear yourself right now?! Who’s fault do you think it is that I’m—“ I retort, unable to hold in my thoughts any longer, only to be cut off by a blow to my stomach that knocks the wind of me.  
        "Since when did you have the _nerve_ to backtalk me?!" Gumi indignantly spits out, barely able to contain her anger.  
        As soon as I bend down in pain, Gumi knees me in my mid-section and follows up with another punch. I wheeze, almost unable to bear the pain that has been inflicted on top of some of my previous injuries from yesterday. Gumi is about to let loose yet another punch, when, suddenly, the girl on the right, the reticent one, firmly holds back both of Gumi’s arms. With a deadly scowl, Gumi whips her head around to look at her. Clearly, she is displeased that someone interrupted her in the middle of “teaching me my place.”  
        “Gumi, you have to admit she has a point. The adults are already on the lookout. If they see her injuries getting any worse, they’ll be forced to do something about it,” the girl utters in a worried yet stern tone, “I think the dimwit been taught enough for today. Let’s just take her money and go buy some dessert.”  
        Gumi continues to glare at the girl for a few more seconds before letting out an irritated huff through her nose and lowering her arms. The sense of relief begins to make its way through my body but halts mid-way when Gumi gives me a big push that knocks me off my feet and onto the cold, hard ground.  
        “This is far from over, _bitch_ ,” she spits out, animosity clearly emphasized on the last word. The three of them cast down at me a look of pure contempt before walking away.  
        I stay seated on the ground for a while, hugging my knees, trying my hardest to pull myself together. But, I fail miserably.  
        "Haha... I'll roll today, too."


	7. Not Okay

I don’t understand. I don’t understand their logic; I don’t understand them. What in the world would give them the idea that I was an inferior animal, a pet that they can abuse? I’m HUMAN. And, how could they blame me for my pathetic, disheveled image when they’re the ones thrashing me around like this? If they don’t want to get into trouble by the school, why don’t they just leave me alone? I don’t know. Is there some crucial piece of information I’m missing? I want to understand why this is happening to me. I want to understand so that I can stop this, so that things can change.  
…  
Round and round, everything goes without a care in the world, as if nothing ever mattered at all. But eventually, all of it catches up to me. I realize that I’m lying down at the bottom of the hill while my head is spinning in circles. A breeze lightly brushes against my face. The sky, the trees, the grass are colorless today as well. I close my eyes, trying to bask myself in the silence.  
“Are you okay right now?” inquires a concerned voice, forcing me out of my stupor.  
My eyes snap open and meet a figure they have seen once before. The boy named Zero stands towering directly over me, who is still lying sprawled out on the ground. His face is missing that despicable smile; in its stead is an expression of worry, especially in his eyes. That solicitous look in his eyes actually makes them seem… warm? In response, I can feel myself furrowing my eyebrows, almost into a cringe. I tear my line of sight away from him and turn my head around to the side. Irritation starts to gnaw away at the little composure I had left.  
Are you okay? That question that other people so often ask when they see me. Oh, how I loathe that question. This guy most likely watched me thrust myself from the top of a steep, steep hill and could see that I’m all battered up. Still, he has the audacity to ask me that question when he already knows the answer. Do they really have to force me to say it?   
“… No, I’m not okay. Happy? I’M NOT OKAY! I don’t understand why all this unnecessary pain and suffering has to happen to me. Like how I was a minute ago, my life is going downhill, except I can't see the bottom of the hill at all. I can’t see the end. I-it’s… getting hard to even breathe,” I confess, almost shouting at him. Tears begin to spill out of my eyes against my will and run across my face. I’m reaching my wit’s end.  
Perhaps it is because the vexation and repugnance I have pent up toward him that led me divulge my current situation, possibly to make him uncomfortable so that he would never speak to me again or to scare him away. Perhaps it is because of the crippling stress and confusion I had been feeling that I felt the sudden need to verbally admit my own helplessness to myself, to someone else, to anyone. I am not sure why I did not answer his question with my usual dismissive “no problem” that I say to everyone else. What I do know is that the words just escaped from my lips before I knew what had happened myself.  
“Are you tired of it all?” he asks in an understanding voice after I calm myself down a little. It's an unexpected response. Surprised to hear it, I move my head back to shoot him a questioning glance. He isn't weirded out yet? My eyes widen as they are met with his face that remains etched with concern, but, unlike before, profound pity is swirling in his amber irises. It’s unnerving, so unnerving.  
“… I can still go on.” More words automatically tumble out of my mouth, even though I'm uncertain about what he means. He continues to stare at me, the sad emotion on his countenance constant. We look at each other in silence for a while. Another breeze comes our way and dries the wet streaks on my face that my tears left behind. I slowly close my eyes and immerse myself into the melody of rustling trees nearby. At some point, I begin to sing part of the song I had been working on last night. The sound of leaves in the background is such a harmonious accompaniment.  
“That sounded beautiful. You have a nice, soothing singing voice,” I hear someone say as I reach the extent of the song I have written so far. I open my eyes to discover Zero sitting beside me with a kind-looking smile present on his lips, but the pity in his eyes remains unchanged. I had forgotten he was still here.  
“Oh… t-thanks,” I stutter, feeling awkward. When was the last time someone said something nice to me? But, the fact that he was the one to say something like that to me makes my skin crawl. Hesitantly, I continue to speak, “... I haven’t finished writing the song yet, though.”  
“Song-writing, hmm? Are you planning to sing it for someone?”  
“No, I don't do that anymore.” I feel a small smile tugging at my lips as old memories resurface. “But, for the longest time when I was young, I wanted to be a singer and song-writer, because I really liked singing and making people smile with my songs.”  
“What happened? You no longer want to?”  
As I slowly shake my head from side to side, a wistful sigh makes its way out of my mouth, “Reality happened. My mother was very insistent about teaching me to be realistic. When I was a kid, My mother used to clap and sing along whenever I sang to her, but when I grew older, my mother shot me down every time I presented a new song I wrote to her. She would tell me to stop wasting time on making songs because I would not make enough money as a singer unless I made it to showbiz, at which she made very clear that I had a practically nonexistent chance. Ever since, she urged me to be a doctor or an engineer instead.”  
“Hmm…,” he hums in thought, “But, it hasn’t stopped you from writing and singing songs yet.”  
What he said is true. Songs have such a special place in my heart that I can’t imagine my life without them. Singing is one of those precious moments that brings color, life, back into my world, albeit temporary and fleeting. It’s one of the very few things that makes me happy nowadays.  
I return a short hum back at him, partly to acknowledge what he said, the other part to try to imitate him. From our exchange of words so far, I notice he makes a "hmm" noise quite often when he talks. The pitiful expression in his amber orbs is finally replaced with what I believe to be an glint of amusement. I then bring myself to sitting position, and the two of us listen to the rustling trees for a few more minutes.  
“I should get going now.” I stand up, wincing when my tired joints creak and crack. My injuries haven’t healed all that much, so I'll probably end up limping my way home like yesterday. Zero stands up with me and waves his hand gently.  
“Until next time, Miku."  
“…Yeah. Bye,” I coolly answer, finding his confidence in meeting me again rather off-putting. I'm also unsure of how to react to him from now on. I had pretty much rambled on about some sensitive parts concerning myself for inexplicable reasons, and he had listened to all of it without any hostility. If I’m to be honest and objective, he doesn’t seem to be an outright terrible guy… but there’s still something about him that repulses my very being. I can’t put my finger on it.  
After walking a distance away, I turn around to look back at him. His back is facing me, and he is walking away in the opposite direction. I suddenly recall that he referred to himself as a ghost in our first meeting. If it were true, that might explain my seemingly baseless revulsion toward him, I guess. But, isn’t he supposed to be haunting someone then? All of the supernatural novels I've read suggest that ghosts stay in the living realm for a personal reason, whether it be a grudge or whatnot. And, he knew my name beforehand, even though he isn't a student, so... is he haunting me? However, he hasn't followed me home or anything, and I haven't seen him anywhere other than at the bottom of this hill. Could he be haunting the school itself? I haven’t heard any rumors at all about ghost sightings from the students.  
"Wait... let's just stop obsessing over the details, Miku," I say aloud to myself as soon as I catch me bombarding myself with useless speculations yet again. But those words hardly do me any good.  
Unsurprisingly, the sheer number of unanswered questions I've unintentionally created for myself overwhelm my brain that tries meticulous and analytical. Tries, as a result of my mother's upbringing, but it struggles nonetheless. I've come to realize that I have great difficulty in detaching my emotions from my observations. Everything I take in seems to splatter onto my emotional canvas of my mind, leaving a tumultuous mishmash of feeling and reasoning. And, in order to preserve the stability of my brain, I often feel the intense need to just stop thinking. To just turn off my brain and to even throw away the ignition key. But forcing myself to stop obsessing over the details is a more onerous task than one would expect.  
Miku... let's just take baby steps right now, okay? Just one step at a time. For now, I need to take a deep breath and summarize how I feel about this as objectively as I can when concerned with emotions. As the situation stands, I still can’t bring myself believe he’s a ghost. Ghosts aren’t real. Yes, my eyes must have been playing tricks on me… right? Under stress, my sensitive mind surely must’ve made that part all up. I should confirm once again when I have the chance.  
With this simplistic, unsuspecting plan of action at hand, I turn back around and make my way home. I am aware, however, that this is a false sense of peace and mind.


	8. Escape

            You know how sometimes a tune of a song gets stuck in your head for hours? That’s what happening to me, except this has been ongoing for a few days of days. It feels as if the melody of the song I was working on wouldn’t leave my head until I finished writing the lyrics. I guess the songwriter part of me that I thought had been dormant has resurged and is obsessed about finishing the song to the point where I've been neglecting most of my homework.  
        Hm? But is that so wrong? Why do adults make such a big deal about homework? I'm just prioritizing what I love to do more. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. ...At least based on what my mother and my teachers have been trying to hammer into my head for the longest time. School seems to be the only thing that matters. Not me. Not my sense of self. Yet, I've always struggled to understand how homework and textbooks are more valuable than my happiness and my dreams. Everyone else in my class appears to understand the reasoning, but why can't I?  
        "Argh, I can't make it rhyme!" In utter exasperation, I shred the paper into strips. "... But now, I have to start over."  
        I sigh and scratch my head. I had poured my figurative sweat and blood into each of those words, but, in the end, it just didn't work out. Still, why do I always regret doing it only _after_ ripping something up?  
        I stay up very late for fours nights in a row until I finally complete the lyrics. There had been times in which I spent over an hour thinking about how to word a single line so that it would neatly fit into the rhythm or accurately convey a certain message. I take one long look at the sheets of paper spread across my desk. The precious fruit of my labor. Rubbing my eyes tiredly, I then slip myself under by bed covers and fall asleep right away.  
            Currently, it’s lunchtime, and I am at school in the music room. Fortunately for me, my teacher let us out for break early today, and I manage to rush into the music room without anyone noticing me. After I make sure to shut the door tight, I breathe out a deep sigh.  
             Finally. I had been waiting and waiting for an opportunity to see how the song turns out with a piano accompaniment like I had in mind. This is it; this is my chance. My mother had long ago sold the piano I once had in my house when she deemed it unnecessary for my education and betterment; therefore, the only access I have to any instrument, let alone a piano, is in the school music room.  
            Eyeing the piano keys, I feel myself getting giddy with excitement, so I try to calm my nerves by taking a deep, deep breath. As soon as I feel mentally ready, I let my fingers fly freely across the keys, and release the words of the song that I had been keeping within me. My eyes watch in awe as the colors that had eluded me creep back into my view. Beautiful shades wash over my monochrome surroundings and make the world vibrant once again. It's all so wonderful. Is this what it used to be like? How did it all get so dreary? How did it all go downhill?  
            Deeply engrossed in my rapture, I fail to notice the music door open and close. A sad smile forms on my face as I reach the end, the climax, of my song. The colors slowly recede, but I reach my hand out to catch them. I try, but I know it doesn't do any good. With the colors gone, I am left once again in this black-and-white world.  
         The sounds of movement behind me startle me, and I whip my head around to see my three pursuers, wide-eyed. Oh no. They found me. Dread races through my body. After a moment of intense staring, Gumi is the first to speak.  
            “What the hell are you doing? Did you skip our _meeting_ just so you could sing like an idiot? We had to look all over for you.”  
            One of the girls join in, “Yeah, as responsible owners, we couldn’t let our little bitch run free without a leash. We thought you were running away from us~.”  
            All three of them snicker at this comment, but their eyes don’t look amused at all. Her mood taking a sharp turn, Gumi then asks in a harsh, menacing tone, “What’s with that dumb song? Did you come here to play pretend, thinking you were like a singer or something?”  
            “I-I—.“ I have no chance to answer because she continues her verbal barrage at me.  
            “Well, I got news for you, dimwit. Your singing SUCKS. What are you, tone-deaf? I've never heard something so bad.”  
            My heart sinks. The two girls behind her burst into booming laughter. After she catches her breath, the same girl who spoke before walks past Gumi and moves over to the piano. She snatches the white sheets of papers laid out on the music rack and skims over them.  
            “Hmm… ‘Written by Miku Hatsune,’ huh? Check this, girls, our bitch thinks she’s a songwriter! She still hasn’t learned her lesson, Gumi, even though we’ve been saying it all along,” says the girl, now standing directly in front of me. She slightly leans her head toward mine, her face about a foot away from mine. Her eyes look down on me with utter disdain, like I’m simply a pest to be rid of.  
            “Get it into your head. You. Are. WORTHLESS,” she coldly states, as if it were the truest thing in the world. She then rips the papers, which contain my lyrics and my notes, right in front of my eyes. Rip. Rip. Into pieces. Torn into so many pieces. In my child-like excitement, I hadn’t yet made copies of my music notes or the lyrics I have written.  I just wanted to test it the song out first before finalizing anything, to hear what it all sounds like, as soon as I possibly could. I watch in horror, as all my work goes down the drain. I had poured my heart into those lyrics, into this song, and she’s now tearing all of it apart.  
        However, what hurt the most are the words the girl says while she tears. The girl continues chattering on about how I am always so pathetically gloomy, about how I’m a mood-killer and an eye-sore, about how no one wants me here in this school, about how I could never make anything of myself, about how everyone would be better off if I were gone. She’s voicing what a part of me had suspected to be true all along. I stare at the remains of my work that is scattered on the floor. Even after she’s done, the tearing sound echoes in my head. The horror I felt suddenly turns into uncontrollable rage, and before I knew it, I knock her off her feet with a punch to her face.  
            “Bwuh?!” she sputters as she falls to the ground. Gumi and the other girl stand still in shock, their minds struggling to register what they just witnessed. I quickly follow up with a kick to her head; she grunts in pain, but before I could do any more damage, Gumi launches a punch at me, who loses her balance and falls against the side of the piano. The weight of my arms against the keys makes a deafening, discordant sound, freezing everyone in the room for a short moment. However, Gumi, barely wasting any time getting back into the fray, grabs me by the collar of shirt and pulls back her fist to release another blow, but before she c—  
            “Gumi! Gumi, Luka’s nose is bleeding, and she’s lost consciousness!” cries the reticent one of the three frantically, kneeling beside her fallen lackey and shaking the other girl’s shoulders, “We should get the nurse over here, fast!”  
            Gumi gasps as her eyes fall upon the girl called Luka and then casts a glare of pure hatred at me.  
            “Rin, stay here and watch over Luka,” Gumi commands before dashing out of the room. I let out a large breath that I didn’t know I was holding in. I nervously take a look at the unconscious girl. I hadn’t realized I kicked her hard enough to knock her out. Will she be all right? I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t mean to. It was… a mistake. This was all just a big mistake.  
            Rin eyes me cautiously, as if I were a rabid dog. I take a step back, and then another one. Soon, I notice my legs sprinting me out the room.  
            “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” Rin shouts after me. But, I don’t stop. I need to escape. But, how? Where to? There’s nowhere I can go. There’s no way out of this spiral I’m going down.  
**____________________________________**  
 ***A/N: Hi, readers. I just wanted to offer some minor clarification that you may or may not have already known. The "~" at the end of a spoken sentence indicates an inflection in the tone of voice and, at times, gives the sentence a sing-songy quality. Luka inflects her speech often; it's essentially a girlish peculiarity of hers.**  
 **See you in the next chapter!**


	9. Edge

        It’s over for me. There’s a very real chance that I’ll get expelled for what I did to Luka. Everyone in the school knows that Luka’s father is rich and influential with the school administration. That’s why none of the students dare to oppose her because they know how capable she is of causing hell to their school life.  
        However, as a father, he knows that his daughter can be quite unruly if left alone to do whatever she wants, so he uses her allowance as a way to control her behavior, raising it if she performs well in her academics and lowering it if she performs sub-par. I recall that, in one of my first encounters with the three girls a long time ago, while I was getting beat up by Gumi, Luka nonchalantly mentioned that she was so behind in her studies that she had stopped trying to catch up. As a result, her allowance had been at an all-time low and, to adjust her spending back to a comfortable level, she needed to resort to other money sources, one of them being my lunch money.  
        Fine. They could take my money for their own greed, but why do they have to dehumanize and hurt me in the process?! Their acerbic words always manage to chip away at my esteem, eventually leading me to doubt my worth as a person. Truly, truly, sometimes I don’t feel as if I am human anymore. If they are so adamant about pushing me toward the edge of my sanity…  
            “Ha… ha…”  
            Well, now I’m at the edge. Inhaling in a deep breath, I take a moment to appreciate the expanse of the sky stretching all around me. My arms rise from my sides, spread horizontally like the wings of a bird that is about to take flight. I leap off the edge into the air. The updraft brushes against my hair and my skin. In that moment, the weight of what I had done, of its impending consequences, and of all the expectations that were thrust onto me is lifted off my shoulders and gone with the wind. I feel so alive and free. Only for a few seconds, of course. Only for a few seconds, of course. As expected, everything comes rushing back. And, I come crashing down. At full speed.  
            …  
            It hurts. All of it hurts. More than before. It's funny how, to me, an ephemeral moment of happiness always seems to be followed by a setback multitudes more harrowing. It's funnier how I am still willing to give up anything for those little moments while holding my breath and desperately hoping that happiness will last. What breaks my heart the most is not the misfortunes that happen after, but the second those blissful moments end.  
        In my perseveration, this ruthless cycle continues over and over, each time tearing my heart anew. I think, by now, my heart has given up trying to mend itself back together. ... What's left is just a mess.  
            “Hck… hck…”  
            Lying on the grass, I had not realized I’ve been sobbing until I saw my chest convulsing and felt my tears trickling down the sides on my face onto the edges of my ears. As I wipe away the wetness with my sleeves, I notice out of the corner of my eye someone standing silently. It’s Zero, watching me with painful eyes. I don’t want to talk to him right now. I cover my face with my arms and let myself continue to cry for an unknown length of time until eventually I feel like I’m running out of tears. All the while, the boy observes me in silence.  
            “Have you done yet?” I hear him finally ask in a compassionate voice once my breathing has finally gotten steady.  
            “Haha.” An airy laugh escapes my lips. I don’t know why that question sounds funny to me, but it does. I bring my body up into sitting position. “… Almost. Hey, do you think if I stop breathing right now, I might be able to see the end very soon?”  
            Without waiting for an answer, I wrap my hands around my neck. And, squeeze. As hard as I can.  
            “…”  
            I try to squeeze and squeeze, but, as expected, my grip eventually loosens against my will. Self-preserving by nature, my body refuses to allow me go all the way through with it. No. No. I hope I at least permanently damaged my vocal chords so that I can’t sing anymore. That way, I’ll be forced to stop dreaming. That way, my hopes can die, once and for all, and I'll be spared from the discouragement and disappointment. Yet, like the coward that I am, I can sense that a side of me, a side that obstinately exists, is terrified of that actually happening.  
            “*COUGH*…Ha…*cough* *cough*”  
            Air forces its way into my lungs between my coughs. To my dismay, the joints in my hands grow tired, and I can’t squeeze anymore. Eventually, my grip loses all of its power, but, out of sheer stubbornness, I leave my hands lingering around my neck.  
            When he sees that I can’t go through with it, the boy kneels in front of me and gently takes the hands around my neck. He then brings them back down in front of me, his hands cupping under mine. He looks at our overlapping hands with a tender smile while his thumbs lightly rub circles on the palm of my hands in what is supposed to be comforting manner. Ironically though, his touch only sends chills down my spine, and his smile even more so.  
            Hold on just a minute here. What I should be most concerned with right now is the fact that Zero physically _touching_ me. How can that be?! He wasn't tangible in our first meeting. He’s supposed to be an apparition. Ah. I knew it. Indeed, my mind had buckled under the weight of stress and somehow managed to make the ghost thing all up. That has to be it. It’s the most likely explanation, because there’s no doubt about it; the boy in front of me is very real.  
            “Are you tired of it all?” Hearing a familiar question snaps me out of my circling thoughts. It’s one he has asked before. This time, however, I feel like I have a greater understanding of the meaning behind it.  
**______________________________________________**  
***A/N: So, the story has finally come full circle from the prologue. Readers, I'm overjoyed that you have stuck along and come this far into my first story! And, Miku fans, I apologize; I've put her through so much ;(**  
**Seriously though, thank you everyone for your time and support. Just FYI, I think I can safely say that, at this point, we've made it past halfway point of the story. I have an ending already in mind, and I'm so excited to get there. But, if there's anything you would love to see, feel free to put it in the comments. I'll gladly consider any input or ideas. Please look forward to what's to come, and I hope I'll have you on board with me to see the end~**  
 **(Oh shoot, I made myself think of a quote in this chapter. *shudders*)**


	10. One More

        “One more try. I'll give it one more try.”  
        I reply in a terribly hoarse voice, holding an index finger up after I shook his hands off mine. His smile dwindling, Zero responds with his short signature "hmm." I don't know how to describe it, but it does have a distinct quality to it.  
        "What for? There are times when things are irreversible, and you just need to accept them as they are," he continues in a gentle tone. His sorrowful eyes slowly travel from my hands to my face.  
        As I study his visage, I let his words sink in. When a few seconds of quietude has ticked away, I shrug my shoulders a bit and mutter, "... This might sound strange, but I feel a small part of me, a part of me I thought would be long gone by now, still hopes that, even now, something can change." I don't know how, but after gazing into his eyes, my heart somehow knew what I should be saying.  
       "Even though everyone expects you to meet their arbitrary standards _perfectly_?" he asks in a lower tone of voice, a tone I don't want to hear right now.  
        "..."  
        "Even though everyone treats you like dirt when they're disappointed?"  
        "..." The way his amber irises seem to quiver puts me at a loss for words.  
        "It just makes me so... sad to see you go through all that," he says, furrowing his eyebrows. His eyes right now look like they contain endless warmth and sorrow. "Sly" is the first thought that comes to my mind when I peer into them; they compel whatever conviction I have left to waver. I force myself to look away.  
        "I'll give it one more try," I finally manage to repeat in a raspy whisper.   
         We sit side by side in silence for a while. Eventually, I fall on my back and listen to the rustling of leaves like before, but, this time, I'm in no mood to sing at all.  
         _I've never heard something so bad_. Those words echo inside my head without cease. I know that my singing wouldn't please everyone, but... those cruel words do more than simply crush my spirit. They cut, scar, and suffocate. Probably, from now on, I'll remember these words ~~whenever~~ if I ever sing again.  
        I suddenly hear low-pitched humming. Perking my head up off the grass, I notice that it's coming from Zero. He's humming the tune of the song I had written. I suppose he remembers it from that time when I sang a part of it to him.  
        "—Hmm... hm hmmm..."  
        For some reason, his humming saddens me beyond belief. It sounds incredibly lonely and resigned. I would cry if I had any tears left in me. Gradually, the hum begins to fade, along with everything else. I close my eyes and succumb to the sleepiness that had been pestering me these past couple of days.  
        I hear a bell ringing. My eyes flutter open and meet the face of Luka.  
        "Hey, you're awake~," She says in a lighthearted voice as soon as she detects my oncoming wakefulness.  
        My eyes, darting from side to side, tries to register where I am. I'm currently in a classroom. My classroom. And in front of my desk are the three schoolgirls I've seen too many times before.  
        "Come on, sleepyhead. You promised that you would come to that new coffee shop with us today," asserts Gumi, lightly shaking one of my shoulders.  
        Fear rapidly creeps into my senses. My attention bolts to the clock on the wall. School should have ended just now. I notice that my teacher is nowhere to seen.  
        "H-how long have I been asleep?" I ask, my voice betraying a hint of worry.  
        "You slept through the entire last period~" points out Luka, wearing a impish smile.  
        "Why do you think she falls asleep so often?" inquires Rin, half out of genuine concern, half out of the desire to learn as much about me as she can. ...Most likely so that she can use the information as leverage among her friends in the fan club, I suspect.  
        "Probably because she has singing practices on top of school. I heard they can be pretty intense, sometimes with big speakers for hours and stuff~. You must be super worn out all the time." Luka playfully pokes a finger at my cheeks. "*sigh* Well, I guess that's what you get when you're a rising pop idol!"  
        I try make the poutiest pouting face I possibly can at the three smiling girls.  
        "Did you see that? Miku just made the cutest face!" squeals a high-pitched voice excitedly.  
        "Aaaww! I wish I caught it on camera," gushes another voice.  
         I look over behind Gumi to see who the voices belonged to. They were from two female classmates of mine. I notice that behind them is a bunch of guys, nervously glancing in my direction. Some of them seem to be whispering to one boy with black, almost bluish hair who appears especially bashful. When our eyes meet, his face explodes into a dark shade of red. He then frantically turns around. As soon as that happens, some of guys around him sigh in what seems to be exhaustion.  
        I scratch my head a bit, wondering what that was about. But, when I come conclusion that, instead of speculating and creating more unanswered questions for myself, I should face the issue head-on in my own way, I stand up on my seat with a grin on my face. Why not add some fun into it?  
        "♪ Oooh, what could be the proooblem at hand, gentlemeeen?~♫" I sing histrionically, one hand placed on my chest and the other extended before me in an upward angle, "♫ Is there somethiiing~ that you wish to talk abooooout~♪?"  
        Amused laughter and applause from my classmates fill the room. Among the noise are stray remarks like "Miku's voice is so smooth and heavenly!" and "I'm about to swoon!"  
        Nudged along by his male peers, the shy boy hesitantly turns around. His face still beet red, he lowers his gaze and lets his eyes aimlessly wander the floor for a moment before he finally shuts his eyes and musters up the courage to take a step forward.  
        "♫ M-Mikuuu....I l-loooove yoooou~! Please accept my feeliiiiiiiiiiings~! ♪" he sings in response, mirroring the tune I was singing to with unanticipated talent. The high note he finished on was certainly impressive.  
        Loud clapping, followed by some whistling, once again floods the classroom. After realizing what he has just done, he covers his face with his hands in obvious embarrassment. A big smile makes its way onto my lips, and I hop off of the chair with surprising grace. I then approach the boy until I'm directly in front of him.  
        "Thank you so much, I'm overjoyed to hear that!" I happily answer while a blush suffuses my cheeks. I take his hands and lower them from his face. I keep his hands laying on top of my palms. In response, his citrine eyes widen slightly, twinkling with elation. They are an adorable contrast to his scarlet cheeks. While we are being bombarded by gleeful squealing and cheers, we gaze into each other's eyes for a while.  
        "... I—"  
        Gumi walks in between us. I let our hands fall to our sides. Arms crossed, she stands in front of me protectively with the intent of blocking the boy's view of me.  
        "Hold your horses. We have a girls-only meeting scheduled with Miku Hatsune right now. Wait your turn, and don't get your hopes up just yet." Gumi tries to sound intimidating, but the toothy grin on her face betrays on her intentions.  
        Rin grabs my hand and hurriedly pulls me along out of the classroom while Gumi attempts to appease the protesting classmates. Skipping directly behind us is Luka, who wastes no time to tease me.  
        "So unexpected~. Don't tell me you guys had been crushing on each other without us knowing?"  
        Rin takes in this new speculation with a shallow gasp.  
        "We have a lot of things to discuss in our meeting at the coffee shop, young lady," Gumi gruffly states, the grin still lingering on her lips. I'm no longer surprised at her amazing physical capabilities; she had caught up with us so quickly.  
        "Don't be such a dad~." Luka playfully waves her hand with nonchalance at Gumi as if she were shooing away a fly.  
        As the four of us dash off together, I am giggling joyfully all the while.


	11. Happy

        I adjust my sunglasses and fix my hoodie into a more comfortable position. My manager has repeatedly told me that I needed to wear a disguise of some sort when I enter crowded places; otherwise, I'll cause unnecessary fuss.  
        My cellphone rings while the four of us are in the middle of a long line to order our drinks. After taking a look at the caller ID, I make a signal with my hands to indicate that I was going to excuse myself.  
        "Fine, we'll order for you. Leek green smoothie, right?" Rin asks. I, of course, nod vigorously in acknowledgement.  
        "Blegh~ I can't believe she loves that stuff. I guess it's quirky things like that that make her so endearing to other people," Luka remarks, sticking her tongue out.  
        "You have no right to judge other people's food preferences, you smelly fish fanatic," I hear Gumi jokingly retort before I am out of earshot.  
        While walking through the exquisitely decorated interior toward the restroom, I pick up the call and place the phone against my ear.  
        "Hello? Mother?"  
        "Hi, dear. Today is your rare day off from vocal practices, isn't it? Right now, I'm on my way home to see you, darling."  
        "Right now? Don't you have work today, Mother?"  
        "Don't worry about it so much, dear. I took half of the day off." I can almost hear her smile, assuring me that all will be fine.  
        "But, isn't it the busiest time of year r—"  
        "Miku dear, I've told you this work is practically just hobby to me now. I just didn't feel right leaving it all to you to support us financially. But, I would never prioritize my job over you, honey. There's only the two of us in this family; is it so bad that I want to spend as much time as I can with my precious daughter?" I can feel my heart melt at her loving words.  
        "Of course not. I feel the same way, Mother. Ah, but I'm at a coffee shop with the three stooges right now." At this point, my mother laughs heartily.  
        "You already know this, but do treasure your friends, dear. I can tell, they bring so much fun and happiness into your daily life." She says, when her laughter dies down.  
        I continue, "They sure do. But, I'll be sure to come home soon in time to help you with dinner."  
        "Haha, you better! You many have friends, but you have only one mother! Don't you go forgetting it. Today, we're making your favorite, soba noodles with crabs and and extra leeks."  
        "YAY! Definitely mothers over friends... _most_ times, tee-hee ★," I joke. At this, my mother makes a mock growl. "I love you!" I add, half hoping to appease her, half hoping that she knows she means the world to me.  
        My mother then settles into laughter. "I love you too from the bottom of my heart. And always will. I'm so proud of you, my little girl." She starts making a few smooching noises from her lips. Giggles escape from mine. "I'll be waiting to see you soon."  
        "See you soon, Mother!" The phone clicks. The ends of my mouth remain upturned.  
        In the spacious but eerily quiet restroom, I walk to the sink to wash my hands and tidy my self up. Putting my sunglasses down next to the handle, I examine myself in the mirror. I look so, so happy. And, for some reason, that's unnerving. There's something... missing. It bothers me that I can't figure out what.  
        I lean closer into the mirror to inspect my face in greater detail. My eyes are bright with no visible bags under them. My skin is smooth and flawless; no blemishes to be seen. And, not a single crack can be found on my pink lips, with the exception of a constant darling little smile. A smile that soon is replaced by a frown. Before I realize what's going on, tears start to flood out of my eyes and make small torrents down my cheeks. They pour and pour and pour out of my eyes seemingly without end. I rub my eyes hard. Now, I look like a mess. And, I'm hardly surprised to see myself like this. Not wanting to face myself any longer, I forcefully shut my eyes.  
        For a moment, I'm unable to inhale any air. All of a sudden, there's a strange, faint warmth spreading through my palms and the sound of bells ringing in my head.  
        I hesitantly open my eyes. Somehow, I'm now lying on grass. Above me is Zero, peering into my face, his head obstructing the light of the sun. My eyes trails down from his face to my hands that around his neck. My hands are not wrapping around his neck tightly; they're just... sitting there.  
        "Wh—?!" I breathe out, obviously startled.  
        I feel a tingling sensation at the corner of my eyes. My line of sight snaps to the source, which happens to be the side of Zero's index finger lightly rubbing up and down my cheeks, wiping away what I presume to be my own tears. I'm surprised I had any left.  
        "Hmm... you're crying again," he mutters softly, acting as if I don't look like I'm about to strangle him. Finally regaining some semblance of self-control, I frantically remove my hands from around his neck and swat his finger away from my face with more force than intended.  
        "S-sorry...," I awkwardly stutter, unsure of how to redeem this situation. I'm so embarrassed right now, I could just hide in the deepest, darkest corners of the Earth forever. Seriously, what was I doing?!  
         However, Zero continues to behave like there had been nothing wrong. I'm not sure whether I should be confused or be grateful.  
        "You're going to dehydrate yourself to a point of no return if you lose any more water. Look, your lips are already so chapped," the boy remarks composedly, his voice somewhat blending in with the sound of the rustling trees.  
        Still very disoriented and drowsy, I absentmindedly stare at him as my tongue stickily moves across my lips, managing to wet them only slightly because my entire mouth was parched. He's right; I feel lightheaded, probably because of dehydration. My eyes wander away from his face to the sky above. They widen in surprise when I notice the sun had set quite considerably from where I last saw it.  
        "You've been sleeping for a few hours. School just ended," he explains once he catches sight of my shocked expression.  
        Oh yeah, I ran out to this hill in the middle of lunch break. So, I've been asleep for few hours, huh. I wonder why he is still sitting here. Does he have nothing better to do? A faint announcement from the school telecom interrupts my train of thought. I didn't expect to be able to hear it from the bottom of the hill.  
        "Miku, y—"  
        "Miku Hatsune. Miku Hatsune. Please come to the Principal's office. Miku Hatsune," echoes an unfamiliar, cold voice.  
        I gasp. Zero watches me with sadness in his eyes as my body tenses up and my face scrunches up in thought. The events that transpired in the music room today floods back into my memory. The words that were exchanged and Luka...  
        Guilt and panic rushes back into my system. They're probably calling me to discuss what happened and to decide where to go from there. Am... am I going to be expelled? However, the other girls were not completely innocent! They've been bullying me and causing me hell for I don't know how long. Even what mangled pride that I have left won't allow them to go scot-free for all they've done to me. Now that I'm cornered, I'm letting the truth come out.  
        If... if I'm going down, it's only fair that I take them with me.  
**_______________________________**  
***A/N: Hi, readers! It's Eirrir here again. I wanted to let you know that, yes, that dream (Or was it merely a dream? Remember, basically anything in this story is open to interpretation) is the quiet before the storm and, in a way, it is my thank-you gift to you for sticking with me this far. I thought you would need a _somewhat_ lighthearted break from all the heavy and emotional stuff that has been going on. Hope you enjoyed it!**  
  
**Also, I encourage you all to actively speculate and form some theories about the motivations of some characters or the events in the story. Post them in the comment section below! Let's see if you can predict what's going to happen next~**


	12. Truth

        I'm feeling restless. Oh so restless. There are butterflies swarming my stomach to no end. Not to mention, my heart slightly throbs for some reason, but it eventually subsides. I ignore it all for now. There are far too many more dire things for me to worry about. For example, what I'm going to say at the principal's office. Cue the sigh.  
        After making the arduous sprint back to the school building, I first head straight to the water fountain. Mmm. The water makes its way down, quenching my parched throat and relaxing my constricted larynx. Although a small rasp persists, my voice now feels better, smoother. ... To my dismay.  
        I quickly make my way to the Principal's office. They must have been waiting for me for quite a while. By now, the number of students roaming the hallways are pretty scarce. The few students I do pass by make no effort to conceal their whispering as soon as they see me.  
        "—Did you hear? She... to Luka."  
        "Are you seriously serious?! ...That girl is a goner for sure."  
        "... Look at her clothes, man. She looks like she was rolling in dirt. Gross."  
        "Yeeeah, rolling girl, rolling in crap~"  
        "Pfft! Good one. That should totally stick. Rolling girl~ *snickers*"  
        I feel my hands ball up into tight fists. A slow, shaky breath crawls out of my mouth. Calm down. Calm down, Miku.  
        Eventually, I reach the office. My hand lingers over the doorknob a bit as I am tempted to just turn around, run away, and pretend that none of this ever happened. However, I shake that foolish thought out of my head because I know that I can't escape from this, what with being a student here and all. My hand turns the knob and seals my fate.  
        In the room are Gumi, Rin, his secretary, the school nurse, the principal seated at his desk, and a couple seated in front of the desk who I assume to be Luka's parents, judging by the posh designer clothes they are wearing. Everyone is wearing a dour face. I close the door behind me, walk a few steps toward the center of the room, and make a polite nod.  
        "Miku Hatsune, I presume? *sigh* You sure took a long time getting here," grumbles the principal with exhaustion evident in his voice, "We called you toward the end of the lunch break as well. Did you not hear it then?"  
        "I'm sorry" is all I could mutter in response.  
        "Look at her clothes, dear. It's like she was playing in mud or something. I told you she would be an unruly bumpkin, probably with a lousy upbringing," whispers the lady semi-audibly to her husband.  
        "Has this school's standard fallen so low to accept even these kinds of people?" whispers the man in a disappointed and not-so-quiet voice.  
        "A-ahem," the principal clears his voice in a forced and awkward way. "Anyway, Miku Hatsune, we called you hear to talk about the incident concerning you, Gumi, Rin, and Luka today. We have already discussed some of it among ourselves, but we would like to hear you voice your side of the story."  
        Gumi and Rin quickly share a tacit glance. With a single blink, Rin flips an internal switch that makes tears magically appear in her eyes. "Y-yes, Miku... please explain what h-happened in the... m-music room tr-truthfully." Her voice trembles in a heart-rending manner, sounding like she was at the brink of bawling. If I didn't know any better, I would think that it was completely out of genuine sadness and distress over what had happened to her friend. But, after witnessing countless students fall victim to her lies, I'm acutely aware that it's all an act.  
        Unlike me, however, the principal, like a moth drawn to a flame, gives her a look of utter sympathy before shifting his attention back on me. It's a lost cause. I'm fighting a losing battle. The jury is already set against me before I even come to the stand.  
        Still, I slowly recount what had happened what occurred after lunch began. I tell them that I wanted to practice singing a song that I wrote but was interrupted by the Rin, Gumi, and Luka. They started to harass me, denigrate my singing, and even rip up my music notes and song lyrics up into pieces.  
        "'Rip up your music notes and song lyrics?'" the principal asked with eyebrows raised. He then turns his head to the school nurse standing on his left. "Nurse, did you see them when you were led into the music room?"  
        "No, sir. I did not," she replies, her eyes squinting in recollection.  
        "W-wha—?! But, that can't be right! Luka really did rip them up!" I exclaim frantically. I whip my head to the side to take a look at Rin. Her face appears puzzled like she has no idea what I'm talking about. But, I know that she smiling in triumph underneath her mask.  
        "Hmm... do you have any evidence to support that claim?" the principal asks.  
        "... N-no." I mumble though gritted teeth.  
        "Miku Hatsune. Contrary to your story, we were told that you told Luka out to meet you in the music room during lunch. When her friends, Gumi and Rin here, didn't see her return after a long time, they searched for her and found you kicking and tormenting her in the music room," states the principal, eyeing me carefully. I look over at Luka's parents and notice that even they find it difficult to picture Luka receiving blows without any retaliation. Surely, they know what a ruthless girl she can be.  
        "W-wait, what?! Th-that's absurd! Rin, Gumi, and Luka have been bullying _me_ for the longest time!!!" I cry in consternation. I cannot believe they would stoop so low to frame me.  
        The well-dressed lady stands up from her seat. Clenched hands trembling at her sides, she snarls with a convincing voice of offense and outrage, "I can't believe this lying brute! You injured my little girl to the point of UNCONSCIOUSNESS, and now you have the audacity to call her a BULLY?! She's in the hospital with a severe concussion and who knows if she suffered brain damage, for crying out loud!!" Not too shabby of a performance.  
        Not surprisingly, the principal, eating up every one of her words, tries to soothe her, "Ma'am, ma'am... I know it might be hard, but please try to keep calm. Moving on... Miku Hatsune, if it were true that these girls had been bullying you, why hadn't you told anyone about it up until now?"  
        "..." I mumble something under my breath, reluctant to announce a thought that sounds foolish now that I think about it.  
        "What was that?" he asks, raising a hand to his ear.  
        "...Because n-no one would believe me. ...No one would help," I confessed, feeling completely helpless and vulnerable.  
        "You would have never known that for sure, now would you," he remarks in a somewhat rueful voice that vanishes so quickly I doubt it was actually there. He continues instead in a matter-of-fact fashion, "Do you deny that you inflicted harm onto Luka Megurine?"  
        "I... n-no." Cornered.  
        All the while, the nurse is staring silently at me with a pitiful expression on her countenance. I realize now that I came in here completely unprepared and naive. I had no evidence or any follow-up explanation for what had happened.  
        "We've also gathered testimonies from various students, such as Meiko, Kaito, Oliver, Len, and Neru, that has supported the assertion that you have harassed Luka a number of times," he reads off a note of paper on his desk.  
        I'm clenching my hands so hard that my knuckles are nearly sheer white. Of course Rin would rely on her brother, Len Kagamine, along with his gang to support her. With Rin's crafty wiles and Len's winsome social skills, those two make a fearsome duo. Not to mention Gumi's intimidating aura and strength and Luka's charms and resources; that's how they've _all_ gotten away with so much for so long.  
        That's right, how did I forget. From the beginning, these three girls had the entire student body on their side, whereas I had no one. Where in the world did I get the idea that I could bring them down? Haha, I might really be a dimwit.  
        "..."  
        After a moment of silence, the principal once again speaks up, "If you have nothing else to add, Miku Hatsune, I will need to speak with your mother on the phone." He nods to his secretary, who is typing notes on a small desk to his right. She nods back. He then swiftly takes a look at the rest of the people in the room. "Everyone else except Hatsune can leave the room. Thank you for your time."  
        I hear a voice with a steely edge cut through the shuffle of footsteps.  
        "Hold on, Mr. Kenmochi. What will be the consequences for her?" the lady asks sharply, almost demanding.  
        The principal casts a brief glance at the two well-dressed adults before looking back at me dead in the eyes. He sighs. "Our school upholds a very strict code against violence and harassment. Miku Hatsune, I'm sorry it turned out this way, but you will be expelled."  
        I thought I had readied myself to hear those words. I really did. But, it turns out I was not. My ears could hardly register what was said next. The voices mix and overlap with one another until they're just one indistinct hum in my head. My mind is too busy desperately trying to hold back my urge to scream. And my heart. My heart feels like it has dropped from a twenty-story building onto the cold, concrete ground and shattered into a million pieces. The only thing the people around me could see, though, was a single tear running down my face.


	13. Ashamed

        Intending to walk home together, Gumi and Rin make their way out to the front of the school.  
        "Good move hiding away those pieces of music crap before the nurse came and planning out an emergency back-up story with the other kids," Gumi says, snickering a bit.  
        "Of course. You can never be too prepared." An ambiguous smile graces Rin's face.  
        "I expected no less from our little mastermind. Be sure to thank your bro for me."  
        "Mmhmm. Do you think I should add a kiss for him on top of that?" Rin jests, bringing the index and middle finger from her right hand up to her lips to blow a kiss at Gumi.  
        "Hahaha, gross," says Gumi before sticking her tongue out in mock disgust. Then, all of a sudden, she plants a palm onto her forehead. "Oh shoot. We forgot to grab our bags from the classroom," points out Gumi as she turns on her heels.  
        "Ah, that's right. Can you get mine for me, too?" asks Rin.  
        "Yeah" is the word that trails behind after Gumi bolts back into the building. Rin then looks up at the blue sky while the wind runs through her blonde hair. She begins thinking aloud to no one in particular:  
        "Every one of us has childhood dreams that were squashed by other people. By school. By reality. Yet, you... you continued to cling onto those dreams of yours. You were always genuine to your hopes, to yourself, and did everything at your own pace. You were different from us, and we hated it.  
        The first time we saw you singing a song in the music room, you looked so... unimaginably happy and dazzling. The darkness in our hearts knew that it had to crush you. Even though the teachers repeatedly tried to dissuade you out of the pipe dream of being a singer, the twinkle in your eyes told everyone that you were going to strive for it no matter what, even if you didn't verbally admit it.  
        Every so often at lunch, you would come to the music room and just sing, and everyone eating in our classroom next door could hear your beautiful voice. We couldn't stand it. I mean, how could we? Every note you sang forced us to be conscious of the emptiness deep within ourselves and made us feel doubtful or ashamed. We were desperate to do anything to make you stop, to drag you beneath us so that we could be absolutely sure that _we_ were doing the right thing, listening to what the adults told us. Surely, you understand why we had to do what we did, right?  
       The three of us took it upon ourselves to make _you_ our sacrifice for the sake of giving us a sense of worth. It was a very... _gratifying_ experience. You poor thing. It was nice while it lasted, Mi—"  
        "What are you doing, Rin?" asks Gumi with a confused look on her face as she walks toward the said girl.  
        "Ah... just mourning a lost pet," she answers, a ghost of a smile tracing her lips.  
        Gumi nods in understanding. "Yeah... let's be sure to give ourselves enough time to grieve before getting a new one."  
        The two of them then saunter away, both with the same impish grin plastered on each one of their faces.  
__________________________  
        The call was unbearable to listen to. Mr. Kenmochi had put my mother on speaker, and my brain can't forget hearing the shock teeming in my mother's voice after he broke the news to her. However, at the time, she was in the middle of work and needed to remain calm. But, that did not stop her from stammering and sighing throughout the whole conversation. She didn't say it, but I could hear it in her tone:  
        _I am so disappointed in you, Miku. I wish I didn't have to waste the effort of raising you myself._  
        The seemingly endless walk home had also been unbearable. My mind was bombarded by hopeless thoughts, and I'm surprised that I didn't break down bawling at any point. I guess I was still too stunned for the reality of it to sink in. I absolutely dreaded seeing my mother and hearing whatever words she had in store for me because the guilt I felt was already so crippling as it is. To my bewilderment, though, she did not come home that night, and I found it difficult to get any sleep when I could hardly pull myself together. All through the silent, lonely night, relentless waves of thought slowly tore my mind apart.  
        ...Did my mother just abandon me? Really? Without her, I truly am by myself.  
        What time is it now? Ah, it's an hour and a half before school ends. I should start getting ready to head on out. I roll out of my bed, brush my teeth, dress, and then walk to the kitchen. Where was my mother? I don't think she came home at all, but given the overload on my mind last night, I can't be sure. I don't see any notable signs of her yet. Had she already gone back to work then? I make myself a piece of toast and munch on it while I flip through the television channels. Even when I'm nearly finished with my meal, I fail to find anything interesting to watch. Not bothering to think any further, I decide on the news channel.  
_"Two people were killed in a car crash on Highway 88. A 2004 Honda Civic was reported to have crashed into a cruiser."_  
        Munch.  
_"The cruiser subsequently burst into flames, says Police Captain Kamui Gakupo. He also suspects that the driver of the Honda Civic was under the influence of alcohol. As a result of the fiery crash, the police are still trying to identify the two bodies."_  
        Munch.  
_"According to the police captain, one of the bodies appears to belong to a sixty-seven-year-old man and the other to a forty-two-year-old woman_ — _"_  
        Click. Finished with eating my bread, I turn off the television. Oh no, I better hurry to school, since the trek there is pretty long. I plan to get home before night falls. I don't want to give Mother any more reason to be angry with me. I've already caused her too much grief.  
  
        Mindlessly, I begin humming a song I've known for a long time. I remember singing it to my mother when I was very little.  
        _"Mom, mom! Listen to dis!" I started cheerfully singing a song I learned from my first-grade teacher.  
        "Ooh, mom knows that song, too!" My mother began to sing along with me. She looked so happy while doing it.  
        "Hehe, dat was fffun! ... Mom, you look so pwetty when you smile like dat," I chirped.  
        "I was smiling because you sounded so beautiful, baby girl," My mother caressed my face, still beaming that smile of hers. I return a toothy grin that was missing my two front teeth.  
        "Byoootiful? Really?" I asked somewhat bashfully.  
        "Yes, my byoootiful girl," she laughed before planting a big kiss on my cheeks._  
        School ended about fifteen minutes ago. I continue humming as I head toward my class in an attempt to keep my mind off of the other students' whispering. Once I enter my classroom, however, I grow quiet. My feet despondently moves toward my seat.  
        My eyes glaze over it. Someone must have reported to my ex-classmates that I was coming to school to collect my things and do some paperwork because, even though school recently finished, someone managed to put a vase of flowers and scribble "ROLLING GIRL CRAP" in large letters on my desk in time for me to come see it**.  
        Even at the very end, they can't give me a break, can they? As I move the books I have from my desk into my bag, I make a great effort to keep myself from bursting into tears under the piercing gaze of my remaining ex-classmates that remained in the room. Apparently, I'm trying too hard to remain calm because biting my lips gradually morphs into grinning, and, before I knew it, faint giggles escape my lips. _Please let me roll in peace._  
        "Ha... ha ha..." leaks out of my mouth.  
        "H-hey... she's finally lost it," I hear a boy nervously mumble to his friend.  
        "I-I told you that was t-too much," his friend whispers back.  
        My eyes dart to the source of the voices.  
        "E-eep!" squeals one of them, startled by the look on my face. A part of me wants to go wreck them, now that I've already been expelled and have fewer consequences to worry about. It's so tempting, but I'm sure I'll be stopped by either the other students or the staff members before I do any real damage. Hmph, it's alright. Because what I imagine doing to them in my head is terribly satisfying as it is. I guess I can settle with just my imagination; _reality_ brings only restrictions anyway.  
       My hand clutches onto my bag filled with paperwork and textbooks tightly as if it was clinging on to my last piece of my sanity. Everyone in the classroom eyes me warily as my legs slowly bring me out of the classroom. Trudging through the hallway, I soon break into a sprint. As I dash out of the school alone, I'm giggling all the while.  
**________________________________________**  
 ***A/N: Whoo, that was some heavy stuff. For those of you who didn't know, I love Shakespeare, believe it or not, so a lofty soliloquy in my work is to be expected~. Also, I bring you all some helpful information about the flower vase on a desk if you hadn't already known what it means.**  
 **-**Vase of flowers on a desk: In the Japanese culture, a vase of flowers on a student's desk means that the occupant of that desk has died. In Miku's case, it is a nasty form of bullying that essentially means "We never want to see you again," "Good riddance," "You're dead to us," "Wish you were dead," or anything else along these lines.**  
  
**Sooo yeah, Miku has it rough right now, to say the least. And, you're already seeing her rationality quickly _going downhill._ Did you catch that? S-sorry, just trying to bring some levity. Please don't bully me ><**


	14. End

       I seem to always return to this place. It has become my haven; it beckons me whenever I am need of comfort, and I sometimes feel myself craving the exhilaration I feel as my body spins in its rough embrace. Funny, isn't it? It's hilarious! If it weren't for this hill and this scenery, I might not have ever paid attention to this school when I was applying.  
        "I'll roll today too~." Even the words themselves roll out of my mouth. Haha! Everything appears to be rolling and rolling. Swirling and swirling. I run, skip, and spin to my broken heart's delight, immersing myself in the environment called "school."  
        Oh boy, I'll miss this school that never gave me a chance to make anything out of myself. I really wanted to love and cherish it; I really wanted to look forward to coming here everyday and making memories that I would one day look back on and smile. If I ever do smile as I reminisce about this place, it would be because of how it all ended up being one huge mistake. Truly, I'm sad and happy that I'm no longer a student here. Sad and happy... PFFTAHAHA I'm hilarious!  
        I toss my book bag as hard as I can from atop the hill. I put my hand up to my ear and wait with giddy anticipation to hear the...  
        "THUD!" Ah, so satisfying. Why is it so satisfying? Why? Why? _Why?_ I feel a wild grin creeping onto my face.  
        "Wait for me!" I shout to no one in particular, immediately jumping off right after and into the endless gray sky with my arms spread apart. It always hurts when I roll, but by the end, the pain somehow lifts away part of the guilt I feel for living like it is an atonement for my mistakes.  
        The wind whistles pleasantly in my ear, the smile spreads widely over my face, and my body hits the grass like a rag doll. A rag doll. That has a nice ring to it. One button pops out. A thread slackens. A screw loosens. Everything comes apart at the seams.  
        And rolls, rolls, rolls.  
        ...Rolling girl. Oh yeah. That's me. Hahaha, I finally get it; it describes me pretty accurately. I guess I'm weird. Could that be why everyone avoids me? I'm sure no one normal would fling themselves from the top of a hill so that they could go rolling all the way down at the fastest speed possible. Yeah, I know. There's no point in blaming the school for my ruined life; I had been the problem to begin with. Maybe if I could get my mind to stop letting everything get to it and obsessing over the problems but instead to laugh everything off and put on a smile, then things would have been different, and I wouldn't have been so _alone_ as I am now. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe the adults were right. Maybe… maybe…  
        Who am I kidding, I could have done a million things differently, but I wonder if they would have ever made a difference. I can't know for sure, and that seriously bothers me. ...Whatever, I don't care how it could have turned out anymore! La la la~, I don't care what happens from now on because I just want to roll—     
        "You were like a bird," a low, gentle voice says.  
        I blink. It's him. Him, who I always see here at the bottom of this hill. The one who always watches me attempt to fly away but fail pathetically.  
        He uses his index finder to trace in the air my trajectory from atop the hill to the ground. "A broken bird that can no longer fly," he proceeds in that low voice of his. He then stoops down and lays a hand on my ankle. I wince in pain.  
        "It's sprained, isn't it?" he asks with that familiar pitiful look in his eyes. I don't want to be under that soft gaze, otherwise I'll...  
        I try to get up. However, Zero waves his hands in front of me in protest as if to calm a skittish animal. "Look, there are times when you just need to accept things as they are. Some things you just can't change," he says, trying to bring some sense to me. Still, I struggle, bringing my body into standing position, but I'm not strong enough to shake off his hand that is clutching my left wrist.  
        "One more try. One more. Let me roll for another day," I plead while raising my free hand above my head, like a child begging his or her teacher for five more minutes of playtime. I need to try again; otherwise, people will be disappointed yet again. I _need_ to... but do I want to? How many more failures will there be? Must I roll again and again? But it seems to be the only thing I do best...  
        Whatever, I don't know. Just please pick me. Anyone, can you not see me? I'm raising my hand. Pick meee! Let me be the one to roll down my sleeves and go because it'll be better for everyone; I can't seem pick up anything, not a single piece of my life, let alone put my life all back together. I try and try, but what has come out of all the effort? Just more pain, suffering, and disappointment. Perhaps I'm not trying hard enough. Or have I even been trying at all? It feels like all I've been doing is holding my breath, waiting.  
        Upon seeing my irrational, childlike display, Zero falters for a second. I take the opportunity to quickly turn around and run up the hill, all the while wincing, ignoring the screams of pain from my ankle. I hardly understand what I'm doing anymore. Well, that's not surprising, now that my sanity has all but fallen apart. My body seems to be moving on pure instinct.  
        However, before I could make it far up the hill, he catches up to me, turns me around by my shoulder, and pulls me into an embrace. A warm embrace that I've always, always yearned for but never received.  
        "N-no...!" I try to push him away. The scuffle forces pressure onto my sprained ankle and causes my legs to buckle. The two of us fall to our knees.  
        "Miku...," he whispers soothingly. He holds me tighter to keep me from escaping.  
        To my alarm, the warmth rapidly spreads through my body and paralyzes me. Why... are his arms so comfortable? My body stops struggling against my will, while tears begin welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision. Somehow, the colors that were once beyond my reach rush back, mixing into the blur. Through my tears, the colors seem to happily bounce and dance. And that makes me want to cry more for some reason.  
        "Are you alright now?" he continues to whisper softly next to my ear, as if he were speaking to a frightened baby animal. I vaguely shake my head in response. My mind, my mind is currently out of order; thus, the remaining pieces of my heart has taken control over my ragged body. My hands hesitantly make their way onto his back, and I return his embrace.  
        "You're tired of it all too, aren't you?" he asks a question I think I've heard twice before already.  
        "... I am. I'm so tired," I finally answer. I've finally admitted the truth that's been weighing down my heart for so long. Now that I've said it, a crushing burden feels like it has been lifted off my shoulders.  
        Has he noticed that I'm so utterly miserable and worn out that I can't go on?  
        This enigmatic person in front of me always says and does things that confuse me, yet he manages to elicit reactions from me that I don't usually do, that I can't control. I hated him since the beginning and tried to push him away, yet he seems to understand my suffering and my pain completely. It's almost as if I'm an open book to him, and as a result, I don't have to hide my sorrow and insecurities from him. He's the only one to whom I've confided and has not rejected me yet. He is... my anchor now.  
        Our bodies eventually separate, and his amber eyes peer into mine. It had been his eyes all along. Their deceptively warm colors lure me in and slowly numb me. Now that I'm caught within, escape from them is hopeless. His hands trail onto my shoulders. With the smile I first saw him wearing, he wraps them around my thin neck and tightens his hold with a startling amount of strength.  
        "It's okay. You can stop breathing now, Miku," his low voice whispers, ever-so-gently. At first, my eyes widen in shock, but when I soon realize what he's doing, a small, resigned smile slowly manages to find its way onto my lips. The tears trickle down my cheeks. Despite his constricting grip on my neck, I'm able to tilt my head slightly toward the sky. I witness a expanse of the deep blue sky and the beautiful orange sun. A scenery I've wanted to see for a long time but couldn't. To behold it once again in its vibrant completeness is too wonderful for words.  
        Of course, happy things are short-lived, like I've been saying since the beginning. The rustling of leaves begins lulling me into a deep slumber. Everything slowly fades into black, in three. ...Two. ... One. ...Zero.  
  
        _The answer: Because it feels good seeing things hit the end._


End file.
